


Embrace The Fall

by Finduilas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Avengers, First Kiss, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Bucky, Injured Tony, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Steve Is a Good Bro, feelings of not being worthy, self deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: Of course Tony starts waking up right when Steve and Natasha have stepped out of the room to go get some coffee while they wait. The others have gone home to change and clean up, so Bucky finds himself alone in Tony’s hospital room, staring down at the man lying motionless on the bed.Or, Tony says some things while he's high on painkillers, and Bucky can't get them out of his head.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 33
Kudos: 430





	Embrace The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "You're actually pretty cute." 
> 
> Thank you to Gemma for the beta and the wonderful comments! 
> 
> For Mako, who's been waiting for this for quite some time. 
> 
> Title from "Control", by Ibe.

_(There’s no need to fear it all_

_Embrace the fall_

_That’s the beauty of losing control)_

***

Of course Tony starts waking up right when Steve and Natasha have stepped out of the room to go get some coffee while they wait. The others have gone home to change and clean up, so Bucky finds himself alone in Tony’s hospital room, staring down at the man lying motionless on the bed. 

Alive. He’s still alive. 

It’s what Bucky keeps telling himself over and over again since they brought Tony in. It’s the only thing Bucky feels comfortable thinking about at this time. He doesn’t want to analyse all the other feelings creeping up since he saw Tony go down. They’re bubbling up inside of him, fighting to make themselves clear in Bucky’s brain, but Bucky pushes them down with the mantra of “He’s alive.” It’s the only thing that really matters anyway. 

Tony stirs a bit in the bed, his eyelids moving slightly and Bucky’s first instinct is to run out of the room and call for Steve. But he doesn’t, just stands there at the foot of the bed, unmoving, as Tony finally pries his eyes open. 

_He’s alive._

Tony’s eyes are wandering and unfocused, and he swallows a couple of times before trying to speak, though no words come out at first. 

“You’re in the hospital,” Bucky says and then, because he realizes that might not have been too reassuring for someone just waking up after being unconscious for three hours, “You’re gonna be fine.” 

“Oh,” Tony says, and it seems like he’s trying to fix his gaze on Bucky now. “Hopsi- ” His mouth clicks shut abruptly, as if he realizes that that’s not entirely the word. He blinks a few more times, then takes a deep breath before smacking his lips together like they’re heavy and sticky. 

“They’ve got you on painkillers,” Bucky supplies, suddenly feeling way out of his depth. He shouldn’t be the one to be here when Tony wakes up. He makes a gesture towards the door - his metal arm pinching as he does - and says, “I’ll go get - ”

“No!” Tony says, his hand reaching out a fraction of a second too late to be in sync with his words. 

Bucky freezes, not quite knowing why on earth Tony would want him, specifically, to stay. Then again, Tony is still pretty out of it. 

“Steve and Nat will be right back,” Bucky says, looking at the door as if he can wish them to come through it right this second. Bucky flexes his hand a bit. If Tony was alright, he might have asked him to take a look at the sting in his wrist. But that can wait. 

Tony nods, closing his eyes for a second again. “‘s okay,” he says, and Bucky is grateful for the blissed look on Tony’s face. He might be drugged out of his mind but at least he isn’t in any pain. 

“Well, I’m sure my face isn’t really the one you wanna see when waking up in a hospital room, so...” Bucky shrugs, not really sure why he says it. Steve is so much better at this kind of stuff. 

A loopy smile spreads over Tony’s face as he says, “You’re actually pretty cute.” 

At first Bucky thinks he must’ve heard wrong. Maybe the many explosions during the battle affected his ears or something, despite the fact that they’re not ringing and it’s quiet in the room and yeah, Tony’s words might be a little bit slurred, but they were still very clear. 

“Wha - ?” Bucky asks, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Hm’pretty,” Tony mutters, his eyelids droopy but he’s looking at Bucky underneath them. “Y’r very pretty.” 

“Tony….” Bucky says, glancing over at the door as if he’s doing something horribly wrong and is going to be in trouble any second now. The guilt is already kicking in, because he knows this isn’t meant for his ears. Tony doesn’t know what he’s saying, he’s hopped up on drugs and vulnerable and… 

“Even when you’ve got that murdr-uh, murd’rous vibe going on,” Tony continues, blinking, the smile never leaving his face. “I like your face.” There’s a tightening in Bucky’s chest that is directly linked to Tony’s words. “I’like you…” 

Bucky is just about to flee when the door opens and Natasha walks in with two cups of coffee in her hands, closely followed by Steve, who immediately locks eyes with Bucky. 

“Hey, he’s awake!” Natasha says cheerfully, her focus on Tony as she absentmindedly hands Bucky one of the coffees. 

Bucky doesn’t even realize he takes the cup from her. 

Steve’s eyes flicker between Tony - now smiling up at Natasha as she runs her hand softly through his hair - and Bucky, and Bucky just _knows_. Super serum hearing. 

“I have to go,” Bucky says in a rush, pushing past Steve and out of the hospital room. He thinks he hears Tony say something, but he tunes it out as he hurriedly makes his way through the corridor. 

Just another thing to push back down and not think about. 

***

“Tony’s coming home tomorrow,” Steve says, faux-casual as the compound comes back into view and they slow their run. Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes on him, even though he does his best to avoid them. 

“Good,” Bucky says, nodding in what he thinks is just the right amount of compassion for an injured teammate. 

“Maybe you can come with me when I go pick him up?” Steve asks, slowing his run enough to slide over into walking. Bucky does the same. 

“I’m sure he’d rather have Bruce or Nat help him home,” Bucky says as he regulates his breathing. He rotates his shoulder a bit, but it does nothing to alleviate the low thrumming pain that goes from the inside of his wrist to spread out over his forearm. 

“Bucky…” Steve says poignantly. 

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky counters with a sigh. 

“So, what?” Steve asks, “You’re not gonna talk about it? Not even with your best friend of almost a hundred years?” 

Bucky can’t help but smirk before giving Steve a look. “That’s emotional blackmail and it doesn’t suit your wholesome image.” 

“Yeah, well, we both know that’s a lie anyway. Besides, if it’s the only way to get you to talk about your feelings,” Steve says with a shrug, not looking guilty in the least bit. 

“Everybody knows that I have no feelings,” Bucky quips, a little bit smug. 

“Fine,” Steve says, mirroring Bucky’s smug look, “Then let's talk about Tony’s feelings.” 

Bucky scoffs indignantly because that’s a low blow if he ever saw one. Anyone other than Steve and they’d be getting the silent treatment and maybe a little bit of that murderous face that Tony seems to like.

“He was completely high on painkillers, Steve,” Bucky says, because it’s clear that that is the only reason Tony said what he did; even then, Bucky probably misinterpreted it. Hell, maybe he even mistook Bucky for someone else. After all, his brain was a bit scrambled at the time. 

“Yeah, and it loosened his tongue,” Steve says, firmly, “Lowered his barriers. Only means he was telling the truth.” 

“Or he thought I was someone else,” Bucky counters, trying to sound casual about it. “Hell, maybe he was thinking I was Pepper or something!” 

“No offense, Bucky,” Steve says with a shake of his head, “But you look about as much like Pepper as I look like a bag of potato chips.” 

Bucky gives him a poignant look from his shoulders to his waist. “Is that right, Dorito?” 

“See, that just proves you’ve been spending way too much time with Tony!” Steve says triumphantly, “Which is why you should know that Tony is completely and utterly over Pepper.” 

Bucky grunts something that could be agreement, before he bends down to fasten the laces of his running shoes a bit tighter. Anything to not have to look Steve in the eye. 

“And he seems to have moved on to you,” Steve says, hands on his hips as he looks down at Bucky. 

Bucky clenches his jaw. He doesn’t deserve Tony’s affection. It’s crazy to think that Tony might have feelings for him. Bucky knows he’s attractive, sure, and that Tony has a bit of a reputation, but that was so long ago. In all the time he’s known Tony, Bucky has never once seen him with a casual fling. There was Pepper, and then… nobody. Which isn’t fair either because dammit, Tony deserves someone to treat him like he’s the most special person in the world. He deserves comfort and affection and love. But from someone that is… _good_. 

“I don’t do one night stands anymore,” Bucky says, shrugging, like he can throw Steve off his scent this way. It’s not a lie either; Bucky hasn’t had sex since the forties, as if that isn’t just a little bit depressing. 

“And neither does Tony,” Steve says, clearly not fooled by Bucky’s deflection. “I don’t think that’s what he’s looking for in you, Buck.” 

“He shouldn’t be looking for anything in me,” Bucky says, his shoulders deflated. “I’m not…” He trails off. ‘Interested,’ is what he wants to say, but he can’t. He can’t lie to himself, or to Steve. “He deserves better,” is what Bucky settles on, because it’s the truth. 

Steve lets out a sigh, and Bucky is afraid to meet his eyes. Somehow it was easier to push down these feelings for Tony when he figured he never had a shot anyway. It’s a disconcerting feeling, knowing that in a weak moment he could perhaps have everything he doesn’t want to admit wanting. So it’s up to him to be strong, to stand tall and say no. When it would be so easy to just give in. 

“You are better, Bucky,” Steve says, and when Bucky finally dares to meet Steve’s eyes he’s almost shocked by the sincerity he sees in them. “It kills me to see you being so hard on yourself. I don’t know what it’ll take for you to realize that you are a good man.” 

Bucky chews his bottom lip between his teeth, not quite sure what to answer. He wants to argue, but deep down he knows that Steve means what he says. 

“And so is Tony,” Steve goes on, a warm hand coming up to rest on Bucky’s shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. 

Bucky can’t help but smile a little bit. 

“Listen,” Steve says, returning Bucky’s smile, “You’re my best friends, and Captain America doesn’t have friends that aren’t worthy, okay?” He shoots Bucky a wink as he tightens his fingers on Bucky’s shoulder a bit and Bucky’s glad it’s the flesh one, the one not giving him trouble since the mission. “And if you’re not ready, or if you’re not sure of your feelings, then I really don’t want to push you. But…” He pauses for a second, giving Bucky another smile. “I think I know you and I’d hate to see you deny yourself a chance at happiness because you’ve got some fucked up idea in your head that you’re not good enough. Because you are, Buck. You really are.” 

Bucky swallows away the lump in his throat and thanks his lucky stars once again that he has a best friend like Steve. 

“I am happy though,” Bucky says and it’s the truth. He never thought he would be again, not after everything that happened, everything that he did… _That was done to him_ , Bucky reminds himself. But being here with Steve, being part of the team, having new friends like Sam and Nat and… _Tony._ It makes him happy. 

“Good,” Steve says, and it looks like he’s about to continue, but then there’s a huffing sound coming closer behind Bucky and he looks over his shoulder to see Sam approaching, hunched over, a hand pressed in his side as he tries to catch his breath. 

There’s sweat running over Sam’s temples, his shirt is drenched and his running shoes are dragging over the asphalt as he breathes out, “I fucking hate you guys.” 

***

In the end, Bruce goes to pick up Tony from the hospital with Steve, and Bucky heard from Natasha that he’s doing better and already wants to go back to his workshop, something that Steve and Bruce put a stop to in order to redirect him towards his bedroom to get some more rest. 

Bucky is grateful that Tony is home, safe and sound, even though he can’t help the tightness in his chest at the thought of having Tony under the same roof again. It’s a big roof though, with many floors, and places to hide. Yeah, he’s a real hero. 

“You okay?” Natasha asks, and Bucky is about to protest - because how on earth has Natasha figured it out? - when he sees her nod towards his arm. 

It’s only when he looks down at his metal arm that he realizes he’s been rubbing his flesh thumb over the wrist absentmindedly, even though it does nothing to ease the pain. 

“Oh,” Bucky says, pressing his fingers against the uncompromising metal. “Yeah, just… ‘s nothing. Something hit it the wrong way when we were, you know.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Natasha asks, a worried frown line between her brows appearing as she steps a bit closer. 

“We were a bit busy making sure Tony didn’t die on us,” Bucky says with a shrug, flexing his fingers before realizing what he’s doing and clenching them in a fist to avoid drawing attention to it. 

“Well, Tony’s back now,” Natasha says, just as Clint rounds the corner calling out, clearly in search of her. Natasha gives Clint a sign, already pushing past Bucky as she says, “So you’ll go and get it fixed, right?” 

“Of course,” Bucky says, as breezily as he can muster, Natasha making her way over to Clint. 

***

“There he is!” Bucky hears Clint call out enthusiastically behind him, as he’s standing by the sink, running cherry tomatoes and radishes under the water. 

“I sure hope you went all out to celebrate my return,” Tony says in true Tony-fashion, and Bucky can’t help but smile, though he keeps his back firmly turned on the table and the rest of his teammates as he splays out the radishes on the cutting board. 

“Sit,” Steve says softly yet commanding, a scuffle of chairs audible, “Bruce and Bucky have been slaving away in the kitchen for hours.” 

“Ah,” Tony says, and Bucky dares a glance over his shoulder at Tony, who immediately ducks his head to break the fleeting eye contact, and Bucky thinks he can see a blush spread over his face. He’s not sure what to make of that. “That’s great. Thanks guys,” Tony says, now looking at Bruce and resolutely _not_ at Bucky. 

“The meat will be ready in just a few more minutes,” Bruce says with a smile, ducking a bit to peek into the oven to confirm his statement. Thor makes an approving sound, hovering over Bruce’s shoulder. 

Bucky turns his attention back to the radishes as he starts to chop them in half with a large knife. Listening to the conversation behind, a warm feeling fills his chest as the team fusses over Tony, who insists he’s alright. Tony’s voice is low and soothing, like liquid milk chocolate, and Bucky doesn’t even focus on what he’s saying as he continues to chop, just lets the comforting cadence of the words wash over him like a security blanket. It should be unsettling how reassuring it is to Bucky. 

There’s a sudden sharp sting shooting out from his metal wrist to the inside of his elbow, as if it is somehow a warning not to get too lost in those thoughts, and it takes Bucky by surprise. The knife falls out of his hand, clattering down on the floor with a loud noise as he takes a hurried step back to avoid it hitting his foot. 

“Whoa,” Sam says, as everyone else’s conversation comes to a sudden halt. 

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters, clenching his fist as hard as he can when he bends down and picks up the knife with his other hand. 

“You okay?” Steve asks, looking at him with worried eyes. 

“Fine, yeah,” Bucky forces a smile, trying to breathe away the pain that is lingering in his arm, “I’m sorry.” 

“Is it your - ?” Natasha starts to ask, but Bucky cuts her off when he turns on the tap and says, “It’s fine. Just, clumsy.” 

“Everything you want in a superhero,” Clint laughs, but Bucky can tell Natasha is eyeing him. 

“Yeah, well, not sure I’m one of those anyway,” Bucky says with a hint of a smile as he runs the knife under the water. 

“Yeah, right,” Tony says with a snort, and it comes out so naturally, so instantly, that it makes Bucky’s breath stop short in his throat. 

“Our dear friend here is right,” Thor says, standing behind Tony as his hands land on Tony’s shoulders and squeeze - maybe a little too hard if the look on Tony’s face is anything to go by. “You have very much proven yourself part of this team, Barnes. And since superheroes is what the adoring public calls us, that is very much what you are as well.” 

Bucky stares at Thor for a second, not quite sure how to reply to such generous words. From the corner of his eye, he can see Steve beaming with pride - the silly punk - and Tony ducking his head as if embarrassed, but still daring a glance at Bucky under long eyelashes. 

“What he said,” Natasha says with a broad smile, nudging her head towards Thor, and it makes everyone laugh and breaks the tension. 

Then the oven timer goes off and Thor calls out a cheer and everybody springs into action again. Bucky finishes making the salad as Bruce cuts the meat, and everyone helps to get the table ready, except for Tony, who is prohibited from doing any labor under general consensus. 

They have a delicious meal, with everyone in a good mood, and Bucky tries to ignore the lingering ache in his arm in favor of enjoying the company and great food. 

He can’t help but notice though that Tony never once addresses him directly, and when he catches Tony looking at him, the second Bucky looks back, Tony averts his eyes in a rush. 

***

Tony’s been back from the hospital for three days and Bucky can’t tell anymore whether it’s him that’s avoiding Tony or Tony that is avoiding him. 

He didn’t necessarily think Tony would remember what he said at the hospital, but clearly he does. Or Steve told him. Or FRIDAY. But it’s been obvious in the way Tony has actively gone out of his way to not be around Bucky, or not speak to him when they’re sitting down for group dinners, that Tony knows. He clearly doesn’t want it addressed in any way, shape, or form which just proves to Bucky once more that he was right. What Tony said didn’t mean anything and now he’s embarrassed as hell about it. So much so that he won’t even speak to Bucky. 

Bucky lets out a tired sigh. He somehow managed to fuck up his tentative friendship with Tony without even doing anything, which hardly seems fair. But maybe it’s just karma coming back to bite him in the ass? 

Bucky misses Tony, and that realization comes as a bit of a shock if he’s quite honest. All those feelings and thoughts Bucky really didn’t want to admit to himself have been bubbling to the surface ever since he heard Tony’s drugged out confessions. Like the words released some kind of dam inside of him and now there’s just no way to stop the flood. 

When he first met Tony, things had been awkward. How could they not, given the history Bucky has with Tony’s parents? Bucky tried to avoid Tony as much as possible, and he wasn’t surprised when Tony did pretty much the same. On those rare occasions they were forced to spend time together - mostly because of Steve’s doing, who wanted to integrate Bucky into the group - Bucky found Tony to be arrogant and loud. When Tony was in a room, there was no way to ignore him, everything gravitated towards him automatically and Bucky didn’t like it. Half of what Tony said was gibberish to Bucky anyway, and it had almost felt like a deliberate jab towards him. Bucky couldn’t quite understand why Steve liked this man so much anyway. 

Bucky tried to keep to himself when around Tony though. Even though he didn’t much like the man at first, Bucky did realize what the Winter Soldier had done to him, had taken away from him, and Bucky thought it best to make himself as small as possible. Even though Tony showed no actual animosity towards Bucky - which was a miracle in itself - Bucky felt like it was something he owed him. Make no waves. Make it easier for Tony to forget Bucky even existed. 

That approach seemed to work for both of them, at least for a while. But it’s difficult to live together - even when it is in a compound the size of theirs - and work together without eventually finding themselves in the same room, alone. Bucky had tried to flee as quickly as possible, but it had been Tony who called out that he really didn’t have to. He didn’t say much more though, but that’s how they found themselves together in the living area, Tony watching something on TV as Bucky browsed through the internet, trying to learn new things. Tony didn’t say anything more to Bucky, but it felt like a significant change nonetheless. A peace offering in some way, even though Tony wasn’t the one that needed to make peace. 

The more time went on, the more Bucky started to realize that Tony’s arrogance and loudness wasn’t that per se. He could start to see the things that were hiding behind it, could start to see through the cracks into that personality that Steve had told him had been there. It turned out that Tony was funny, forgiving, and smart, _oh so smart_. What Bucky mistook for arrogance was quite simply Tony’s genius unable to be held back. He didn’t boast with his knowledge, he just couldn’t help but share it, because sharing often meant helping people. 

It was as if a switch was flipped and Bucky couldn’t help but see Tony in a whole other light. Tony was caring, and not just about his friends. He stubbornly wanted to single handedly keep the whole world safe just as much as he wanted to make sure Steve’s room was always just a few degrees warmer than the rest of the compound or that the pantry was always stocked because Thor loved breakfast more than anything or that the new arm he designed for Bucky slotted onto his shoulder with no discomfort whatsoever. 

Bucky flexes his fingers as he lets his shoulders sag. He’s sitting on the side of his bed, staring at the arm Tony made for him because he refused to let Bucky walk around with something that was made by the same people that had tortured him, had used him to torture. The arm that Tony has fixed and improved so many times and yet now Bucky is afraid to go to him, even though he knows he needs it. 

The pain had been occasional and fading quickly in the beginning, right after the battle that had knocked Tony into the hospital. Bucky had thought it would simply go away, like a muscle ache or a cut, but it is becoming clear to him that isn’t the case as it is 3:21 in the morning and Bucky is sitting on the edge of his bed, unable to sleep because of the ache in his arm. As another wave of discomfort throbs through his forearm, Bucky grits his teeth and lets out a pained noise, before getting up on his feet and pacing around the room nervously. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY calls out to him; it has long stopped taking Bucky by surprise, “You appear to be in pain. Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Bucky sighs. “No, thank you, FRIDAY. I’m fine.” 

“Excuse me for insisting,” FRIDAY says, “But you don’t appear to be fine. Shall I call someone?” 

A sharp jab shoots through his arm, causing Bucky’s entire body to twitch and Bucky lets out a roaring, “Ah, _fuck_!” as he takes a step closer to the wall and punches his left fist into it in a misguided attempt to stop the pain. It does not. 

“Captain Rogers, perhaps?” FRIDAY continues, “Or Mister Stark?” 

“No!” Bucky all but yells, cradling the arm now close to his chest, his breathing becoming more labored as the pain increases. 

“Sergeant…” FRIDAY starts cautionary. 

“No,” Bucky repeats, curling his flesh fingers around the metal and tightening his grip, even though it does nothing. The metal doesn’t budge but the inside of it starts to feel like it is on fire. Another grievous sound escapes Bucky’s mouth and he lets himself fall back down on the bed. 

“There is an override code,” FRIDAY tells him, her voice sounding calculated somehow. 

“What?” Bucky asks, confused, the ache clouding his mind. 

“Boss installed it after Agent Barton not so graciously fell down the stairs and failed to tell anyone about it,” FRIDAY goes on, matter-of-factly.

Bucky remembers that; Clint was walking funny even though he claimed nothing was wrong, but Natasha forced him to go to medical and it turned out two bones in his foot were broken. Bucky also remembers the subsequent lecture Steve and Tony had given Clint about hiding injuries from each other. 

“Fuck…” Bucky breathes out, because he has a feeling he knows where this is going. 

“I am required to notify Mister Stark if anyone is - ” FRIDAY says. 

“FRIDAY, no, come on!” Bucky calls out over FRIDAY’s voice, and he’d feel stupid pleading with artificial intelligence if it wasn’t for the agony he was currently in. 

“ - fits the criteria for the override procedure,” FRIDAY finishes. Bucky missed a part in the middle there, but he’s a little bit busy curling up into a ball of misery, trying hard to breathe through the pain and failing. 

This is exactly how Tony finds him maybe two minutes later as he comes bursting through the door. 

“What the fuck, Barnes?” Tony calls out, his hand still on the doorknob, coming to a halt as he takes in the sight before him. 

“Dammit, FRIDAY,” Bucky curses, forcing himself in an upright position instantly, clenching his jaw and staring straight ahead at the wall. 

“No, don’t blame FRIDAY,” Tony admonishes him, “She did exactly what she was supposed to. You on the other hand…” 

“I’m fine,” Bucky grits through his teeth, bracing himself as another wave of pain hits him. He’s trying to lock his entire body, tightening muscles as not to show anything. “It’s a misunderstanding.” 

“You’re fine,” Tony says deadpan, coming to kneel by the side of the bed in a rush, “Which is why you look like you’re about to pass out in pain.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky mutters and immediately realizes it’s the wrong thing to say when Tony’s eyes snap up to meet his in utter horror. 

“That’s hardly reassuring,” Tony says curtly, straightening himself visibly as he gets down to business, “Tell me what it is.” Bucky starts to open his mouth, but Tony cuts him off brusquely. “And _don’t_ \- !” He takes a breath, pointing a finger at Bucky before finishing, “Don’t say ‘nothing’.” 

Tony’s gaze is piercing and angry, and Bucky knows he means business now. 

“It’s the arm,” Bucky admits, blinking a few times as he focuses his stare on a spot somewhere on the wall over Tony’s shoulder - the spot he punched earlier and now realizes has a dent in it. 

Tony’s fingers twitch towards the metal arm, but he stops himself before actually touching and asks, “Can I…?” 

Bucky nods, because he doesn’t have much choice anymore anyway. Tony was woken in the middle of the night - and fuck, Tony’s still recovering from his injuries, he needs his sleep - and Bucky can’t very well send him back without at least allowing him to have a look. Not that Tony would listen anyway, but Bucky appreciates him asking before touching. There was a time when Bucky wasn’t granted the option. 

Tony’s fingers trace over the metal curves gently, and Bucky tries to think of a different time when this gesture would be welcomed, craved for even, but all he can focus on now is the pain. 

“Come on,” Tony says, standing up in front of Bucky. He’s wearing sweats that appear too big and a t-shirt that has holes in it, his hair is rumpled and his feet are bare on Bucky’s bedroom floor and this is a glimpse of what Tony looks like when he’s sleeping and it hurts Bucky almost as much as his arm. He isn’t meant to see this, no matter how much he wants to. “I need my tools,” Tony says, and because Bucky clearly hasn’t moved in an acceptable amount of time, Tony adds, “Can you walk?” 

“What?” Bucky frowns, looking up at Tony. The pain is putting him in some kind of haze, unable to lock up those feelings he doesn’t want to acknowledge. “Yeah,” Bucky says, when he finally realizes what Tony is asking, and he gets up off his bed, following Tony down to his workshop. They’re almost halfway there when Bucky realizes he’s not wearing a shirt. 

They’re quiet on the way there, but Tony radiates annoyance and Bucky feels horribly guilty for waking him in the middle of the night, even though he didn’t actually ask for it. Bucky doesn’t dare to go back for his shirt. 

He sits down on a stool that Tony indicates to him when they arrive in the workshop and positions his arm on a workbench as Tony sits down next to him, pulling some small tools closer. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to keep his arm still. 

“Tell me everything,” Tony says and it isn’t a question. 

“I’m not sure what happened,” Bucky starts, in all honesty, “It was during the fight.” Bucky doesn’t need to specify which one. “I think it got hit by something, I’m not sure what. I hardly noticed it at the time.” 

Tony nods as he listens carefully, his eyes fixed on the arm that is out on display. 

“When everything was over and you were…” Bucky trails off, starts again, “It was just a little pinch, I hardly felt it.” 

“But it became worse?” Tony asks, remarkably calm now that they’re talking shop. 

Bucky nods. “Every now and then there’d be a surge of pain,” he says, clenching his fist for the millionth time, even though he knows by now that it does nothing to ease the pain. “Then more frequent, and…” 

“More painful?” Tony supplies for him. 

“Yeah,” Bucky admits. 

“And tonight?” Tony asks with an amount of patience Bucky isn’t sure he himself could muster if he was woken up in the middle of the night by his idiot friend. 

“It woke me up,” Bucky says with a sigh, just as a spike runs through his arm again, causing his arm to twitch. It doesn’t escape Tony’s notice, Bucky can tell. “And it won’t go away.” 

“Okay,” Tony says, nodding thoughtfully, “Where does it hurt exactly?” 

Bucky unclenches his fingers as the arm lays on the bench before Tony. “It’s as if it starts on the inside of my wrist and it shoots all the way up my forearm in sharp bursts. Then in between it just… lingers.” 

Tony grabs one of his small screwdrivers in his right hand as he lays the fingers of his left hand over the metal in the middle of Bucky’s forearm. He looks at Bucky, meeting his eyes in a way to ask permission and Bucky just gives him a curt nod. Tony touches the screwdriver to the metal, smoothly inserting it underneath the edge of one of the panels so it springs loose, revealing the inside of his arm. 

Bucky looks away, not because he’s squeamish, but maybe because he doesn’t like the reminder that he’s… broken? Incomplete? Instead he closes his eyes, tries to focus on evening out his breathing. He knows that when Tony is working on the arm, he needs to keep it still, regardless of the pain. So he tries to shift his mind to regulate his inhales and exhales, to the way Tony’s fingers brush over the metal every now and then, which Bucky can feel like the touch on skin. 

His first arm wasn’t like that. Hydra didn’t care if he was in pain, much less if he could feel a gentle touch on it. As long as it was functional. He was overwhelmed the first time Tony fit him with the new arm. Not only did it align perfectly with his shoulder, but the sensation of it was completely different. It was perfectly balanced, weighed exactly the same as his real arm, something Bucky hadn’t even realized did so much for his comfort. And the material - although still a type of metal - was sensitive to the touch. It wasn’t bendable like actual flesh and it wasn’t overly sensitive because that could be unfavorable in a fight, but he could feel,much like skin. It had blown Bucky’s mind and left him speechless in the beginning. He would run his fingers over different surfaces, overwhelmed by the sensations rushing through his body. 

As foreign as the arm felt to him at first, it is part of him now, as if it was his own. Tony might have given it to him, made it for him, but it is Bucky’s. Not just something that is on loan to him. 

Somewhere along the line, Bucky is losing himself in his thoughts, breathing heavily but steady as Tony works, the only betrayal of his pain a shaky inhale every now and then. 

“So how much are you downplaying the pain?” Tony asks, and just as he speaks Bucky’s eyes shoot open as one of Tony’s tools maneuvers in between the wires and it releases a jolt of ache through his arm. 

Bucky grits his teeth, unable to bite back a pained grunt. 

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” Tony calls out in frustration, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” 

“You were recovering,” Bucky tries to argue. 

“So, what? That means you have to suffer?” Tony asks, his eyebrows screwed together as he opens up another plate on Bucky’s arm, giving him more access. 

“It’s fine,” Bucky says, shaking his head dismissively. 

“For fuck’s sake, Bucky!” Tony cries out, jumping up from his stool as he throws the piece he was holding down on the bench in anger. 

Bucky doesn’t flinch, but his stomach tightens in response. 

“You should have told me right away!” Tony snaps, running his hands through his hair, “Your pain isn’t any less important than anyone else’s, no matter what you say to yourself!” 

Bucky swallows away any argument, knowing he won’t win anyway. His shoulders sag a bit as he casts his eyes down to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he says, quietly. 

It seems to wash away Tony’s anger in a matter of seconds and he comes back to sit down next to Bucky, picking up the tool again. 

“Okay, listen, I see what the problem is,” Tony says, remarkably soft as he carefully reaches into the arm and starts moving some things around. He mutters something about a connector and a processor and a bunch of abbreviations and numbers that Bucky doesn’t quite understand anyway. Bucky doesn’t look at Tony’s hands, but instead at his face as he concentrates on the task at hand. Tony looks tired, but his features are soft now for all that he was yelling a minute ago. Bucky can tell he’s holding things in, that there’s still an elephant in the room that neither of them dare to address. 

“Can you fix it?” Bucky asks, quietly. 

Tony lets out a barely audible snort, fiddles with something inside the arm for a few more seconds before he leans back a bit and meets Bucky’s eyes. “Already done,” Tony says, giving Bucky a half-smile. 

“Oh…” Bucky says, surprised, looking back down at his arm, which is still open but now completely pain-free. 

Tony’s laying down his tools and carefully starts closing the panels, fingers brushing over the metal they click into place. It’s as if time slows down all of a sudden and Bucky watches as Tony’s fingertips linger over the inside of his wrist, a barely-there touch. There’s a shuddering breath and Bucky realizes it’s his own as the gentle contact is in such strack contrast with the pain he’s been experiencing over the past few days, and something tightens inside of Bucky’s chest. 

“Does it still hurt?”’ Tony asks, concerned, mistaking the sound. 

Bucky quickly shakes his head, not trusting his voice to make it past the lump in his throat. He swallows, hard. 

“No,” he says, voice rough, as he stares down at where Tony’s hand is still gingerly resting on Bucky’s wrist. 

They seem frozen in the moment for a few seconds, and Bucky wants to hold onto it, but then suddenly the spell breaks and Tony clears his throat as he takes back his hand in a rush, getting up from his stool and putting more distance between them. Bucky wants to reach out, wants to feel Tony’s soft touch a little bit longer now that it isn’t marred by pain anymore. But he doesn’t move. 

“Right,” Tony says, clearing the workbench as he turns away from Bucky slightly, “You’re good to go again.” 

“Right,” Bucky whispers, suddenly feeling cold and exposed. 

“Next time, don’t wait so long,” Tony says, a faux-cheerfulness in his voice that sounds like his media-voice and Bucky doesn’t like it. “I know my time is extremely valuable, but it was a quick fix.” He smiles in Bucky’s general direction, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and his eyes don’t meet Bucky’s. 

“Right,” Bucky says, stepping off of the stool and placing his feet on the cold workshop floor again. “Sorry.” 

He makes his way towards the door, and hesitates a moment when Tony doesn’t follow, instead busying himself by arranging tools slowly in the fancy looking toolbox. 

“Tony…?” Bucky asks, and Tony hums in reply, but doesn’t actually look back at him. Bucky isn’t sure what he wanted to say anyway, so he settles on a “Thank you” before making his way back to his room. 

***

It’s three days after Tony fixed Bucky’s arm and Bucky is starting to wonder if he actually heard Tony say that he liked him. If it wasn’t for Steve having heard it too, Bucky would start to think it was all a hallucination, because Tony has barely said two words to him ever since. 

Tony sure doesn’t _act_ like he likes Bucky. Or thinks he’s cute, because yeah, that’s another thing Tony said. And Bucky is _not_ cute, okay? Bucky is damaged, doesn’t talk if not spoken to, has a resting serial killer face, thinks the world is out to get him and gets annoyed by… well, most people in general. He likes puppies though. And cats. He likes cats. But the point is, cute is not a word anyone would ever use to describe him. Certainly not to his face. 

But the words came out of Tony’s mouth and now Bucky can’t stop thinking about it. Tony clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, but no matter how much Tony may regret having said it, Bucky can’t get past it. Because he _liked_ it, and the more Tony avoids Bucky, the more annoyed Bucky gets. Because he was fine not thinking about it, but then Tony had to go and open the door just a tiny bit...

“Come on!” Sam pleads with him, bringing Bucky out of his thoughts. “We need to have a life outside of this compound!” 

“We have a life,” Steve frowns, and the innocence portrayed on his face would make Bucky laugh if he wasn’t in such a bad mood. 

“Yeah, whatever you say, Cap,” Sam all but rolls his eyes. “Just… going to a bar and having drinks and meeting people that aren’t demi-Gods or artificial intelligence or a hundred years old. You know… _normal_ people! Doing normal people things.” 

“We’re normal,” Steve mutters, but he concedes quick enough. “Okay, fine. Drinks at a bar. I’m in.” 

“Yes!” Sam cheers, then turns to Bucky, “What about you, Winter Sunshine?” 

“I’ll pass,” Bucky says, and he can see Sam is about to protest just as Tony walks in the room. 

“Tony!” Sam calls out cheerfully, “We’re just discussing our evening plans. Wanna come with us and have some drinks? Socialize a bit?” 

Bucky can see Tony’s eyes glance over at him quickly, before looking back at Sam, hesitantly. There’s a surge of annoyance bubbling up inside of Bucky at Tony’s obvious goal to steer clear of Bucky. 

“Don’t worry,” Bucky says with a bite to his voice, giving Tony a look, “You can say yes. I’m not going.” 

“Buck…” Steve says, hesitantly, but Bucky can’t bring himself to be more diplomatic. 

“What?” Bucky snaps, very deliberately facing Steve and not Tony, “I’m supposed to pretend he isn’t avoiding me?” 

Steve is looking decidedly uncomfortable and Sam is making wide eyes; Bucky didn’t mean to ruin the evening, but there’s a tingling underneath his skin and if he holds in his anger, he’s pretty sure chances are high he’s going to break something. Something material, yes, because Bucky’s seen and done too much violence for twenty lifetimes and he’s had enough of it, but he still has a fuse that’s shorter than most. 

“I’m not - ” Tony starts, feebly, but he catches himself before he continues, like he at least has the decency not to lie straight to Bucky’s face. 

“You’re not what?” Bucky asks, venomously, “Not talking to me again? Avoiding me at any cost?” Bucky waves a hand over at his friends. “Sam suggested an evening out and from the panic in your eyes you’d think he suggested another round with an invading alien race!” 

“Right, ‘cause you’re one to talk,” Tony says, the expression on his face hardening, “You’d rather pass out in pain than let me know your arm is malfunctioning.” 

“What?” Steve asks, and Sam gives him a look. 

Bucky was really hoping he could have avoided this. 

“Oh, he didn’t tell you either?” Tony says, tilting his head as he looks at Steve. “FRIDAY had to call me! I found him curled up in a ball on his bed, in agonizing pain.”

“I was handling it,” Bucky grits out. 

“You were _not_ handling it!” Tony yells back, and they’re face to face now, shouting at each other like Steve and Sam aren’t even in the room anymore. “You probably would’ve ripped the arm off altogether if it meant you didn’t have to come to me for help!” 

“Because you clearly didn’t want me to,” Bucky counters, “So excuse me for not wanting to inconvenience you - ”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Tony says, his jaw clenched, “When have I ever not wanted to work on your arm?” 

“Oh yeah, no,” Bucky scoffs, “If I could have left you the arm to work on, I’m sure that would’ve been fine. Neat little science project, and you’re so into those. If only the pesky human you were trying to avoid wasn’t attached to it.” 

“That’s low,” Tony says, inhaling sharply through his nose, “You’re the one who’d rather have that arm torture you than come to me.” 

“You barely said two words to me since the hospital!” Bucky shouts. 

“I was trying to make things easier on you!” Tony says, waving his arms around wildly. 

“By cutting me out of your life?” Bucky asks, bewildered, “Why on earth would that make things easier on me?” 

“You know damn well why!” Tony says, practically vibrating with annoyance, “Because of what I said at the hospital, you asshole!”

“You’ve been doing your best to make it unambivically clear that you didn’t mean a single word of it,” Bucky says and he really wishes he couldn’t hear the hurt in his own voice. He wonders idly if Tony can recognize it too. Bucky sighs. “Look, I don’t know who you thought you were talking to,” Bucky says, “I told Steve - ” He turns towards where his friend was standing only to discover that neither he nor Sam are still in the room. They must have slipped out quietly while Tony and Bucky were shouting at each other. 

“Huh,” Tony says, looking around, like he hadn’t noticed that particular fact either. 

There’s an awkward silence for a second and then Bucky says, “I guess they were confident enough we aren’t actually going to hurt each other.” 

“Physically anyway…” Tony mutters under his breath and Bucky isn’t quite sure he was meant to hear it, but the words tug at something inside his chest. Then Tony takes a deep breath, fixes his stare at something on the floor and says quietly, “I knew exactly who I was talking to.” 

Bucky looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t move as Tony goes on, sounding small and unsure, “I mean, I didn’t _mean_ to actually say it, I was hopped up on drugs and out of my mind, but… I was saying it to the right person and - and I meant it.” 

Bucky tries to process what Tony is saying, and it’s exactly what he knows he wants in his heart, and therefore it can’t possibly be true. Bucky doesn’t get what he wants. Bucky doesn’t get the guy and the happily ever after. He’s not the romantic lead in his story, he’s the sidekick. 

“But I know that’s probably the last thing you wanna hear, so that’s why I was trying to - ” Tony says, shrugging as he visibly composes himself and Bucky can almost see him preparing to put up walls again, to slip on a mask to wrap this up and probably bury himself under a ton of projects in the workshop. There are windows of time where he’s allowed to look into Tony’s inner being and he can’t have this one close. 

“It is,” Bucky says, hurriedly, and Tony’s eyes snap up at him. “It’s exactly what I wanted to hear, which is… why it couldn’t be.” Bucky clears his throat, shuffles from one foot to the other. “And when you just ignored me afterwards, I figured…” 

“I thought you wouldn’t want to be around me if you knew…” Tony trails off, eyes carefully studying Bucky’s every reaction. 

“Because I’m a homophobic prick from the twenties?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow at Tony. 

“Because you’re human,” Tony says instantly, like the other thing never even occured to him, “And it’s awkward as fuck when someone you know is in love with you and the feeling isn’t mutual.” 

_In love_. 

Not just like, not just think he’s pretty or cute, but no… in love. Tony’s in love with him and Bucky doesn’t know how to deny himself anymore. 

“You realize you picked a complete basket case to fall for, right?” Bucky says and he can’t help the little smile that tugs at his lips. 

“Yeah, see, I have this tendency to take each opportunity to screw myself over every chance I get,” Tony says as he lets out something that could be a laugh. He rolls his eyes at his own words, and shakes his head. “If I ever wanted to make a shrink very rich I’d let them analyse just why that was.” 

“Steve tells me that I need to stop sabotaging my own happiness,” Bucky says. 

“Don’t you just hate it when Steve is right?” Tony asks, a soft but sad smile on his face. It’s clear that Tony thinks this is Bucky letting him down gently, making sure they can still be friends somehow. 

“Try dealing with it for a hundred years,” Bucky smiles back. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest and he doesn’t know why on earth this is so hard. All he has to do is take what Tony is offering him. Allow himself this chance at what he really wants. 

“I’ve got a lot of hiccups in my head,” Bucky confesses, trying to explain to Tony how his brain works. “There’s things that I want and because I want them, I think I’m not supposed to have them.” _Like you_ , his mind supplies helpfully. 

“That sounds an awful lot like punishing yourself,” Tony says, and Bucky appreciates that Tony isn’t immediately trying to argue with him. 

“My brain wasn’t mine for a long time,” Bucky says, even though he knows that Tony knows this, “And now that it is again… It’s like I’m not quite sure what to do with it.” 

Tony frowns, purses his lips a little bit before he speaks. “If this is your way of telling me I shouldn’t have feelings for you because of what you went through, I hate to tell you this, but that’s not exactly how it works.” 

“This is my way of telling you that I have those same feelings,” Bucky blurts out, and Tony’s jaw closes with a click. “And that I’m trying to fight that voice in my head that tells me I don’t deserve it.” 

“You have… feelings,” Tony says, subdued, and then he seems to realize how that sounds - like Bucky having feelings at all is a surprise to him - and says quickly, “I mean - ” 

“For you,” Bucky says hastily, because he isn’t sure that was very clear. “I have feelings for you.” 

There’s a beat of silence as Tony just stares at him, and then he breathes out, “Wow…” 

“Yeah…” Bucky says, staring back. He wants to move forward, to take Tony into his arms and never let go, yet he can’t seem to move. 

But the thing is, Tony wouldn’t be Tony if he didn’t seem to just _get_ that. 

“So that voice that you’re fighting in your head?” Tony asks carefully, “Is it winning?” 

Bucky takes a moment to think about it. It would be so easy to tell Tony that it is, that he’s sorry but he just can’t do it, because it scares him too much. Because the thought of having him and constantly having to worry about losing him again - as if it’s some kind of inevitability - would kill him. That his cocoon of looking and longing and quietly pining is safe and that he is scared to leave it. 

But if he does leave it, Tony will be there on the other side. Tony’s hands touching him, Tony’s lips kissing him, Tony’s heart loving him. And isn’t it even scarier to go without that? 

“I think…” Bucky says, his voice wavering. He takes a deep breath and braces himself. “I think that if you kiss me, that voice won’t have a leg to stand on anymore.” 

There’s something that flashes over Tony’s eyes as his lips curl into a smile, and then he’s inching closer to Bucky and it somehow feels too slow and too fast at the same time. But Bucky doesn’t want to escape this anymore, and he can feel his eyes close as Tony’s breath ghosts against his mouth until there’s the soft pressure of Tony’s lips brushing gently against his, moving in slow motion like he wants to make sure Bucky can pull back if he starts feeling trapped, but Bucky doesn’t want to pull away, feels nothing but relief and _at last_ and bliss. 

To show Tony just that, he lifts up his right hand to cup Tony’s jaw, thumb brushing over the hairs of Tony’s goatee, pressing his lips a little bit more firmly against Tony’s. He’s not going anywhere, and it’s not as if every single doubt or worry has dissolved completely by the mere act of Tony’s kiss, but more that it is all worth the inner turmoil he’ll have over starting a relationship - _God, a relationship with Tony_ \- because he doesn’t know how he ever considered going without this. 

Tony’s hands come to circle his waist, the touch almost electric even through the fabric of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky is suddenly hyper aware of the warmth, of the pressure of every fingertip kneading into Bucky’s skin, of the way Tony’s chest bumps against his own as Tony leans into the kiss, into Bucky. 

It’s only when Tony gently takes hold of Bucky’s left hand that he realizes he hasn’t dared touch Tony with it. Tony guides it around his own body and it sparks something deep inside of Bucky that releases a strangled noise from his throat. Bucky flexes the metal fingers over Tony’s back, now holding him close as Tony’s hand finds its way to Bucky’s head, fingers raking a strand of hair out of Bucky’s face. Bucky deepens the kiss, nudging his lips against Tony’s, who willingly opens up underneath him, immediately swiping his tongue over Bucky’s. 

The kiss is wet and warm and feels like a perfect storm, unstoppable adrenaline surging through their bodies and Bucky’s so focused on losing himself into Tony’s mouth that he barely registers he’s getting hard. Until Tony pushes up, standing on his toes as he presses his entire body against Bucky’s and Bucky can feel the unmistakable drag of Tony’s hard-on against his hip. It’s enough to short-circuit Bucky’s brain as Tony’s mouth leaves his, teeth scraping over his jawline, breath falling heavily on his skin. 

“Did that do the trick?” Tony asks, somewhat smug despite his voice coming out ragged and shuddering, burying his face against Bucky’s neck. 

“Huh?” Bucky asks, trying to get his brain on track again, but it’s so hard when Tony feels so good in his arms. 

There’s a puff of warm air leaving Tony’s mouth and he says, “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

“Yes,” Bucky repeats - and how is he breathless after just one kiss? - because he’s pretty sure the answer to whatever Tony says from now on will always be yes. 

***

“ _What_ on earth is that?” Tony grumbles as he stirs in Bucky’s arms, pressing his face into Bucky’s chest. 

“Sorry, sorry…” Bucky whispers, trying to reach over to the nightstand without jostling Tony too much as the blaring of his alarm keeps ringing out too loudly in the bedroom. There’s a good five inches between the tips of his fingers and his phone, and he knows he isn’t going to be able to turn it off this way, especially since Tony is slinging a leg over Bucky’s, tightening his arms around Bucky’s chest as if to make sure Bucky isn’t going anywhere. 

“You realize I can’t turn off my alarm if I can’t reach it, right?” Bucky asks, and he knows that he has the physical strength to move out from under Tony easily, but mentally he just can’t bring himself to let go. 

“FRIDAY, for the love of God, shut it off,” Tony mutters, sleep still entangling the words. 

The alarm shuts off mid-beep. 

“Oh,” Bucky says, dropping his reached out arm onto the mattress with a thud. He didn’t realize that was an option. 

“Why would you even want to wake up this early?” Tony asks, the movement of his mouth tickling at Bucky’s skin. 

“Going running with Steve,” Bucky explains, and as he presses his lips on the top of Tony’s head he breathes into the unruly mop of hair. 

“No-o-o,” Tony whines into Bucky’s chest, then shuffles his body up, dragging it against Bucky’s, until he’s flopped completely on top of him, arms bracketing Bucky’s head and face buried in the crook of his neck. 

Bucky can’t help but chuckle, the movement jostling Tony’s slightly. It’s by far the best blanket Bucky has ever had. 

“Is this your way of telling me you want me to stay?” Bucky asks, a smug smile pushing through. 

“I can be more persuasive if you want me to be,” Tony mumbles, grinding his hips slightly down onto Bucky’s. 

Bucky lets out a satisfied hum, his hands findings their way over the dip in Tony’s back, down to the swell of his ass. He’s not one for sleeping in late, but with Tony’s body pressed up against his own, he thinks he can manage staying in bed for longer. 

“I think I’m already convinced,” Bucky says, hands traveling up and down Tony’s back. 

“Yay,” Tony says with a content mumble, his hand petting from Bucky’s hair down the side of his face. 

Tony feels warm and comfortable on top of Bucky, like a literal security blanket, grounding Bucky.

“I have to call Steve though,” Bucky says, making a weak attempt at reaching over to his phone. 

“FRIDAY…” Tony says in between soft kisses he’s dropping on Bucky’s neck and immediately a dial tone rings through the room. 

“The future’s insane,” Bucky mumbles, tilting his head back into the pillow a bit to give Tony better access. 

“Hello?” Steve’s voice cuts off the dial tone. 

“Steve,” Bucky calls out into the room. 

“Hey Buck,” Steve’s voice is cheerful and very awake. 

“Would you hate me if I took a raincheck on our plans to go running this morning?” Bucky asks, trying hard not to get too distracted by Tony’s lips nipping at the skin of his neck. 

“Of course not,” Steve answers, understanding as always, “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, just...” Bucky clears his throat for a second as Tony’s tongue swipes a wet trail under his jawline. His mind seems to pause for a second. 

Then Tony lifts his head a bit and calls out, “He’s otherwise occupied!” 

Bucky closes his eyes and groans inwardly. Subtlety will never be Tony’s strong suit. 

“Tony?” Steve asks, sounding confused for a second, before adding, “ _Oh_.” 

“Uhm,” Bucky says, covering Tony’s mouth playfully with his hand - but Tony just licks his palm, so Bucky pulls away - “Look, we’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, Buck,” Steve says, his voice now soft and amused, “Whenever you want.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky says, tilting his head to the side as Tony pushes himself a bit higher up, pressing his nose against Bucky’s cheek. The movement drags Tony’s now hard-on over Bucky’s groin, making Bucky’s dick twitch. 

“I’m really happy for you,” Steve says, such sincerity in his voice that Bucky almost feels guilty as he subconsciously tilts his hips up a bit, into Tony’s touch. 

Before Bucky can respond, Tony calls out cheekily, “He’s really happy too!” 

“Tony!” Bucky groans, embarrassed. 

“Oh _Jesus_ ,” Steve calls out and stresses, “ _Goodbye!_ ” as the line goes dead. 

Tony is giggling against Bucky’s skin, his whole body vibrating against Bucky’s. 

“You’re terrible,” Bucky says, and before Tony can answer, he places his hands firmly on Tony’s hips and swings them around in one fluid motion so that Tony’s flat on his back and Bucky straddles him immediately. Tony lets out a surprised woop, but he’s grinning up at Bucky in no time. “Now if you’re going to make me cancel my morning exercise to stay in bed,” Bucky says with a sly grin, “You better make me sweat.” 

Tony sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks up at Bucky, his eyes turning dark. 

“Challenge accepted.” 

***

_Fin_


End file.
